July 18, 2009
On a small cliff above a cascading waterfall dropping down into Yosemite Valley, the lower part, where the road forks. Merced? Fresno? Berkeley? Where am I going? Back to Upward Bound. DON'T THINK THAT THOUGHT- just let your legs dangle over the cliff- look out- the lowering sun lighting up a granite crag jutting from an evergreen forest. The water smashing against stone on both sides of me almost completely masks the sound of tourists cruising in their cars on the bridge above me. One arch, supporting a series of arches, supporting a plane, covered in asphalt and oil stains. -People- we always want access. I am trying to relax my jaw- stop clinching my teeth- Relax damnit! You are in nature! -Nature- what is natural? What is real? Water carving stone. Was ice. Was clouds. Was ocean. Was the stuff keeping the pilgrims afloat until they washed up on these shores and marched and moved and cut and grooved and now.... on my one day off, I'm here. Under a bridge, above a waterfall, looking at a canyon and wondering why college is so important after all. After all the neurons firing, after all the paper pushing, the pens writing, the keys typing, the lasers printing, the glasses magnifying, the push push push, after all that fades away, the most beautiful things will still be rocks and water and trees and breezes.
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